


Happy Halloween

by Mybrolly



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anxiety, Fancy Dress, Halloween, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Masked stranger, Post-Reichenbach, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mybrolly/pseuds/Mybrolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is forced to attend a Halloween party to stop him moping about the flat after Sherlock's death. It turns out to be a lot better than he'd expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Halloween

“Hardly original, John” Greg chucked at the feeble attempt at a costume, John had his white doctor’s coat on, his own stethoscope and a novelty oversized syringe he’d bought at a joke shop. 

“You’re one to talk, Batman.” John rolled his eyes and took a sip from his beer, “Shut up anyway, you know I didn’t want to bloody come.”

“It’s Halloween, John and it’s about time you got out of the flat, we’re all a bit worried about you frankly.”

“I do leave the flat!”

“For anything other than work and shopping?” John fell silent, “No, didn’t think so. You have to get your life back on track mate. Sherlock wouldn’t want you moping about now, would he? He’d call ya boring and pathetic, tell you that emotions are idiotic or some crap like that.”

“Annoying thing is you’re right. Look I’ll stay for a few drinks but that’s it, I’m not exactly in a party mood.”

Greg agreed to his conditions and the men chatted, drank and Greg eventually left to flirt with a red head dressed as some slutty version of the devil. John couldn’t blame the man, he was newly single after taking Sherlock’s death as a “life’s too short” sign and finally leaving his cheating wife. Greg had encouraged John to do a little flirting and kept pointing out the blonde naughty nurse that kept looking over, John just dismissed it, flirting was the last thing on his mind, he just wanted to be back home in the flat and away from people. The doctor got himself another beer and went to stand at the wall, getting a good view of the room but hoping no one would bother him.

“I believe your nurse is looking for you, she hasn’t stopped staring.” The voice came from a man dressed as V from V for Vendetta, his voice either perfectly like the characters or faked to sound that way.

“Not my nurse. Won’t be either, wish she’d take the hint.” John took a swig of his beer and hoped the man would wonder off and leave him alone again.

“Not in the party mood, doctor?”

“Not at all. Dragged here by a mate. Take it you know Sally?”

“Unfortunately.”

John let out a small chuckle at the man’s droll response. Sherlock would’ve liked this bloke, anyone who saw through Sally Donovan instantly would have his approval. He didn’t bother asking V’s name or who he was, what was the point, it would only encourage small talk and John was far from in the mood, he chugged down his beer, made his excuses and went to get another, alcohol would definitely help.

“I think you’re free to go, you know, it seems your friend has found better company for the night.” The voice of V came from behind him, the costumed man must have followed him over to the other side of the room. 

John glanced over at Greg, body close to the red head’s, laughing, smiling, clearly flirting and it didn’t look like it’d be long before there was more than just talking going on. 

“Who knew the old bloke could pull that easily, must be the hair, girls love the silver foxes.” He joked but he was pleased for Greg, he’d known the man had had a rough time with his wife so it was brilliant to see him out flirting and enjoying himself. “Think I’ll stay for another though, I should really be more social.”

“Stay in a lot do you, doctor? Work take over?”

“Nah, work’s not bad, I just…I lost my best mate a few months ago, finding it hard to get back on track.” He’d no idea why he’d admitted that to a total stranger, it was the first time he’d even said it out loud, he’d known he was struggling with Sherlock’s death but admitting it wasn’t something John was willing to do, he didn’t want to seem weak.

“Know the feeling myself. Not easy to keep going without them but I’m sure in time you’ll move on.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t want to move on, he meant so damn much to me… I’m not ready to move on.” John fought hard against the cracking in his voice.

“In time, it will happen, he wouldn’t want you to mourn him, I’m sure, he’d likely want you to live your life, be happy, find a wife and settle down, all the things people are supposed to do.”

John nodded, he couldn’t exactly see Sherlock wanting that for him, not when he found every girlfriend he brought home to be boring and annoying but he wouldn’t want the wallowing either, maybe that’s why he’d lied, tried to make it easier, make John think he was a fake so he wasn’t fighting with the world to save Sherlock’s reputation, so he could be angry at him, hate him, move on. Would Sherlock actually think that way though, he was selfish mostly, would he ever think to make mourning easier for John? 

John’s thoughts were interrupted when a man walked past in a costume, a long black coat, a deep blue scarf, a deerstalker…John fought the emotions at someone dressing as his best friend, until the man turned around and John saw the fake blood covering one side of his face, the bastard had shown up at the Halloween party dressed as Sherlock, dead Sherlock. 

“You bastard! You bloody bastard! He was a great man, he saved so many lives and you mock him? You fucking bastard.” John pushed past everyone and stormed out before he hit the bloke, rage was filling every nerve in his body and he knew one punch most likely wouldn’t be enough. Flashbacks filled his head, images of Sherlock on the pavement, the blood pouring from his scalp and the lack of pulse. That horrible feeling filled him and his breathing became laboured as anxiety took over. 

V managed to convince Greg not to follow, told him that he would only remind John of Sherlock, before the masked man followed the medic, running to catch up with him. 

“Stop,” The man grabbed John’s shoulder, “Breathe, don’t let one idiot destroy you, breathe John.” 

It was useless, John’s mind was flooded with images of Sherlock on the ground surrounded by blood, he couldn’t calm his breathing and when a group of people walked past it just seemed to make him worse. The costumed man took his hand and lead John to a darkened alley, away from people and dark enough that they could barely see each other. 

“You’re away from it now, focus on your breathing.”

John listened to the man’s voice and tried to mimic his breathing, glad he was a stranger and he didn’t have Greg seeing him in such a bad state. 

“That’s it John, breathe.” He lifted John’s hand and placed it on his chest, “Follow mine, can you feel me?”

“Yes.” John croaked out between his slowing hyperventilation. The man stroked his hand over John’s hair, not something John would normally be okay with but it seemed comforting and hell, he wasn’t going to see the bloke again. 

“You’re doing brilliantly, focus on your breathing.”

John listened to each instruction V gave and followed the rise and fall of his chest under his hand. Slowly but eventually John calmed, keeping his hand in place on V’s chest.

“Th-thank you.” He managed to get out, genuinely grateful for the stranger.

The costumed man stepped closer, closing the space between them and John tried to focus his eyes in the darkness but he couldn’t see the man at all. John heard a rustle and felt hot breath on his face, clearly the man had moved his mask. “You’re welcome.” The stranger whispered before placing his lips on John’s. 

John was stunned at first but there was something about the man, about the way he’d helped him calm down and the feel of his heart beating beneath his hand that caused John to kiss back. The two locked in a deep embrace, tongues entwining and dancing together. John wrapped his free hand around the man’s waist and he responded by running his fingers through John’s hair. 

The man’s lips were soft, perfect and he tasted beyond amazing, his hands held the same comfort as they had before and John seemed to crave him which the masked man responded too in kind. Pushed against the wall the kiss turned hungrier, filled with a lust and passion that John had never guessed was there earlier. The doctor was lost in the stranger’s kiss and was rather happy to stay that way.

“John?” Greg’s voice broke the silence of the night, soon followed by John’s phone ringing.

“Dammit!” John hissed as the kiss broke, Greg had awful timing. The man returned his mask and John called back to Greg, “Yeah, I’m fine now, I’m..”

“Sally kicked the idiot out, come on back, we’ll get ya a beer then a taxi home, eh? Sally wants to apologise, she wouldn’t have let the bloke in, she’s not a fan of Sherlock jokes you know, she didn’t know mate.” 

John heard footsteps, unsure if Greg was approaching or V was moving, “You coming back in?” he whispered to the man. There was no response and John fumbled around to feel for him but couldn’t reach him. “You still there?” his face dropped when he realised his companion had gone but figured he may have gone back inside, he might have been saving John’s dignity. “Coming, mate.” He called to Greg and headed back towards the light end of the alley. 

Greg handed John a beer and tried to talk to him but John’s eyes focused on each costume in search for V. He ended up staying longer, hoping he’d come back, even if it was just to thank him again for calming him down, for being there. John asked about, people remembered seeing the costume but had no clue who was underneath the mask, not even Sally knew. It seemed he’d lost his V, the man who’d helped him and gave him such an amazing kiss. 

He kept asking around under the pretence of thanking the masked man but never found out who he was. John thought a lot about that night, that man, that kiss, hoping and wishing he’d see the man again.


End file.
